


Into the Unknown

by wesleysgirl



Category: Angel: the Series, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 16:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4356758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Sofy.<br/>Many, many thanks to Voraciouslurker for the thoughtful, helpful beta!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Into the Unknown

**Author's Note:**

> For Sofy.  
> Many, many thanks to Voraciouslurker for the thoughtful, helpful beta!

 

John Sheppard was thinking how awesome vacations were. He'd just seen a Dodgers game, complete with hot dog and beer, and now he was licking his way through a soft-serve ice cream cone he'd bought on his way out of the stadium. It was vanilla and chocolate twisted together, and it was probably made of three thousand different preservatives, but it tasted _fantastic_. He followed the swirl where the two colors met with his tongue, feeling the creamy cold of fake-vanilla and cocoa-power-chocolate, and grinned. This was practically the perfect day. The only thing missing was McKay's complaining, and he'd be hearing that soon enough when he and Rodney met back up in a couple of days. For now, he was playing tourist and loving every minute of it.

The sun was setting as he walked back toward his hotel. He could have rented a car, but it didn't seem practical in L.A. and although he'd taken a cab to the stadium, he figured it was nice enough that he might as well walk. He'd been eating a heck of a lot of junk food and the exercise would do him good.

He was just passing an alleyway between two buildings when he heard... something. He wasn't even sure what it was, just that it didn't sound _right_ , and he paused, listening. There was nothing, and he was just about to move on when what might have been a low growl emerged from the alley -- not close by, but close enough to hear -- followed by the immediately recognizable sounds of fists on flesh.

John reached automatically for his sidearm, which of course wasn't there because he was on _vacation_. He couldn't have denied, though, that the thrill of his heart beating faster as he entered the comparative darkness of the alleyway was familiar and, well, thrilling.

He paced at a slow, quiet run into the unknown, the soles of his sneakers rolling on the paved surface beneath him, until he reached the end of the building to his right. Then he stopped, pressed against the rough brick of the building. He lifted his ice cream cone to his mouth unthinkingly, slurped some of it into his mouth, then blinked at it and dropped it to the ground as he swallowed.

There was another growl. "Come on," someone said. A man's voice, rich and low, followed by more sounds of a scuffle. John peered around the corner in time to see a tall black man fighting with -- what the fuck _was_ that thing? It looked like someone whose face had had an unfortunate run-in with some hydrochloric acid, and, by the way it was acting, the run-in had turned it pretty crazy, too. Which, when you thought about it, made sense. Anyone who'd been through something to scar them up like that would end up kind of insane, right?

At least, things made sense until the tall black guy jammed a stick into the crazy-guy's chest and the crazy-guy exploded into dust.

The other guy, the one who John figured wasn't crazy, brushed dust off his shoulders, coughed, and straightened up. His eyes met John's. "Hey," the man said. "I hope you didn't breathe any of this dust. There was some kind of, I don't know, chemical spill or something. You breathe it in, you start to hallucinate. Believe all kinds of wacky things."

John had spent years in another galaxy fighting the Wraith; he knew a lie when he heard one. "Right," he said slowly. "And let me guess, you've got a bridge to sell me. Seriously, what was that thing?"

The man blinked at him, then shrugged in a loose-limb sort of way. He was bald-headed and almost as big as Ronon. "Vampire."

"Vampire? Really?" John found himself grinning. "Since when?"

"Always." The other man tucked the stick into the back of his waistband the way John would have done with a pistol. "Since the beginning of time. Where do you think all those stories came from?"

"Well, I always figured they were from the imagination of someone who did too many drugs," John said honestly. "Is this what you do?"

"Kill vampires? Yeah, pretty much. These days." The guy seemed distracted. "Look, it was nice meeting you --"

"John," John supplied.

"Charles Gunn," the man said, backing away. "But another one went off that way, and if I don't track it down there's gonna be trouble. Go on back to the street, okay?"

"Are you kidding? I'm coming with you." John followed Gunn down another, connected alleyway, wishing he were more familiar with the area.

"I can't watch your back and do my job," Gunn told him. "Just get out of here. Go home."

"That'd be kind of hard," John said, thinking of Atlantis. "You don't have to watch my back -- I can take care of myself."

"Not the first time I've heard that one." Gunn slowed down and glanced inside the first floor of a building that was deserted if the broken-out windows were any indication. "Street's that way." He gestured up the second alleyway, at the end of which John could see cars going back and forth.

John shook his head, stubborn. "I'm going with you."

"Fine," Gunn said shortly. "Don't say I didn't warn you." And with that, he plunged into the abandoned building.

It was even darker inside, but not pitch black. John stuck close behind the other man, shadowing him and wishing he had a weapon with him. They paused at the bottom of a staircase, and Gunn wrestled a broken banister free and handed it to John.

"Thanks," John whispered.

"Thank me when you get out of here alive," Gunn whispered, which was a pretty funny thing to say considering he'd been insisting he wasn't going to watch John's back. Gunn stayed still, listening, and John kept quiet. After another minute or so, they started moving again, around one corner and then another. They'd just reached the middle of the room they were in when there was a sudden scraping sound behind them. John whirled just in time to take a blow to the side of the head that knocked him right off his feet.

He could hear a struggle as he tried to convince his body to move, and by the time he managed to get to his knees, the vampire had Gunn pinned firmly to the floor. The sharpened stick Gunn had been holding lay useless, inches away from his groping, outstretched hand and it looked like the vampire was trying to get its teeth into Gunn's neck. John's heart was thudding in his chest and he could hear Gunn gasping for air.

John got up, broken banister still in his grip, and mimicking Gunn in the alley, plunged it into the vampire's back. Hey, he was nothing if not a quick learner, right?

Or maybe not. The vampire didn't explode into dust, and Gunn made a pained sound. John yanked the banister free and stabbed the vampire again, but again nothing happened.

"Heart!" Gunn gasped. "Hit... the --"

Irritated with himself for not having realized -- what good were all those stories if he didn't let the details _mean_ anything? -- John stabbed the vampire one more time, aiming for the heart and putting all his weight into the blow. This time the vampire stiffened and detonated into the cloud of dust John remembered from before.

Of course, the previous time John hadn't been the one doing the staking, and he hadn't been poised above Gunn, balanced on the stake. When the vampire exploded, John collapsed forward, just managing to get the chunk of splintered wood turned so that it ended up on its side next to them when he fell onto the other man.

Gunn coughed. "Man, you're heavier than you look."

It was dark, but not so dark that John couldn't see the grin on Gunn's face, especially with it being so close to his. "Sorry."

"No, no, it's good. Thanks." Gunn touched his neck, which looked like it was bleeding sluggishly. "Ow."

"Yeah, we should put something on that." John realized he was still lying on top of the other man, and then that Gunn's other hand was on his hip. And then that Gunn wasn't exactly unhappy about the proximity, considering the... physical evidence. "Um."

"Sorry," Gunn said, though he didn't sound it. "I kind of get off on it, you know?" Gunn's hand moved a little bit on John's hip, almost like a caress, and John, who'd been celibate longer than he would have liked, felt his own body respond instantly. Judging from the easy, confidant grin spreading across his face, Gunn felt it, too.

"Yeah," John said, breath hitching as Gunn's hips twitched beneath his own. "I get that."

"What are you, an ex-cop or something?" Gunn asked.

John shook his head. "Air force." His hands were flat on the floor. If he wanted to, he could push himself up off of Gunn. He didn't. "You're still bleeding. My hotel's not far from here -- we could go back there, get you cleaned up..."

"That'd require standing up," Gunn pointed out.

"True," John said. "Can't say I'm all that inclined to go anywhere." The press of another warm body against his own was too tempting.

"On the other hand," Gunn said, sliding his hand slowly along John's hip to his ass, "we wouldn't have to move for all that long."

It was clear what he was implying. John liked it. "Also true." Before he could say anything else, Gunn lifted his head and kissed him. The hand on John's hip tightened briefly. "Yeah," John said when their mouths parted. "Yeah, let's get out of here."

"Cool," Gunn said, and if they couldn't -- quite -- keep their hands to themselves as they made their way back to the door, well, there wasn't any around to see, not even a vampire.

  



End file.
